Written In the Stars
by Skyla Bakers
Summary: Based on Cathy Cassidy's Driftwood.FerrisWheelShipping.Hilda/N and some Bianca/Hilbert. Not the ordinary everyday FerrisWheelShipping fanfic. Read to find out what happens! ON HIATUS CURRENTLY DUE TO SCHOOL HOLIDAYS. :
1. Chapter One: It's Only the Beginning

**This is just an idea I got, nothing too awesome in it.**

**Chapter One: It's Only the Beginning **

Hi, my name is Hilda White. Yes, I'm _that _Hilda the one with chestnut brown hair and aqua blue eyes. And no, this is not gonna be a typical story of how I go on my Pokémon journey, for my mom is kind of… reprimanding if you know what I mean. She's scared to let me go on my Pokémon journey even though I'm **thirteen **and I was supposed to go on my journey three years back. This is my second year at Kontor High and my best friend is Bianca Chiranuy. She is cute, funny and optimistic, but still weird in a way. She always has been, ever since she marched into my classroom seven years ago, wearing pink wellies, reindeer antlers and boldly timid look in her big olive eyes. She pitched up in Kontor like a small tornado, and she's been like that ever since. It's Monday morning, and Bianca skipped down the aisle of the school bus, a vision in pink eye shadow and light pink lipstick. She's wearing a grey school skirt which has been snipped off to make it absolutely the shortest in school and long stripy pink and black socks that reach up over her skinny knees. On her feet are two pink ten inch platform shoes. Ouch. And her jacket is a huge drooping pink school blazer like something your grandma might have worn in 1947. Where her school badge once was, she stitched on a Bullet for My Valentine patch, slightly squint. And on her blonde head was a pink beret. She was on a one-woman mission to overthrow school uniform or redesign it as her own version of pink girlie chic. She is thirteen years old, like me

'Like the socks,' my brother Hilbert called from the back seat of the bus. A few kids snigger, and Bianca sticks her tongue out at him, but hey, my brother probably does like the socks. He is fourteen years old and lately I have seen a moonstruck, fuzzy expression seep over his face whenever Bianca is around.

I haven't mentioned this to Bianca yet. I don't want to scare her.

She slides into the seat beside me. Her hair, even more yellow with the golden sunlight peeking through the window, had a few random stripes of hot pink.

'Major news!' She says, eyes sparkling with excitement. 'I mean, seriously major, Hilda! You will never guess what happened yesterday!' Yesterday, Bianca was meant to come round to my place to hang out, use my computer for her English homework and download the latest episode of her favorite show. Mikelly and Dave don't have a computer or television in their house and Bianca gets withdrawal symptoms sometimes. At the last minute, she rang to cancel. I didn't mind too much, but Hilbert was crushed, all dressed up in his best jeans and hoodie, hair gelled into hedgehog spikes and trailing a cloud of noxious aftershave. He's got it bad.

'So,' I said, tugging at Bianca's blazer sleeve. 'What was it all about? Tell me!'

She settled into her seat, breaking a stick of bubblegum in half so we can share. 'Guess what? Mikelly and Dave are only going to foster a new kid! After all this time!' Bianca and her little brother, Brett, started out being fostered, but their family, Mikelly and Dave, got the legal bits sorted and adopted them for keeps a few years back. If you saw the Chiranuy family, you'd never guess they weren't related. They are a perfect fit – the whole bunch of them are seriously flaky.

'No way!' I grinned. 'A new kid? Is that good or bad?'

'Oh good, definitely,' Bianca laughed. 'His name is N Harmonia. Mysterious huh? The social workers said he's from a troubled background, whatever that is, but they imagine he'll settle in great with Mikelly and Dave. They brought him yesterday. Cool or what?'

'Cool. How old is he? Will he be a friend for Brett?'

'Nah,' Bianca said. 'N's older than us – fourteen. He'll be in S3. Maybe Hilbert can look out for him? He's really cute, if he weren't my new foster brother I'd be all over him!' Bianca giggled.

My brother, Hilbert, is a pain in the ass, but he's funny and streetwise and popular with the other kids. And in spite of the teasing, he'd do anything for Bianca.

'Why don't you ask Hilbert?' I suggested. 'I think he'd do it.'

'I will. N's starting school today, but Mikelly drove him in early to get the paperwork done, and talk to Mr. Malinque and the to the guidance teachers and everyone.'

The bus lurched to a halt and a sea of rackety teenagers rolled down the aisle. Bianca and I take our time. It's January. It's only just light out there and definitely sub-zero, so what's the hurry? Bianca stands up, my brother, Hilbert, just happens to be in the aisle behind her.

'Imagine seeing you girls here,' he said carelessly, as if he hadn't spent a whole week planning this exact moment. 'After you Bianca.'

'Why, thank you Hilbert.' Bianca said sweetly.

Hilbert moves smoothly along behind her, hitting me in the arm with his backpack, so I know the sudden attack of good manners doesn't extend to me. Bianca was telling Hilbert about the new foster-kid, and by the time we spill out, shivering, on to the frosty pavements, she's got him to promise he'll keep an eye on N Harmonia.

'Oh Hilbert thanks!' Bianca exclaimed, fluttering her eyelashes and laying it on thick. 'I knew I could count on you.' By the time she turns away from him, my brother is bright pink and grinning like a madman. No change there. We link arms and saunter up towards the school gates, giggling.

'Your brother blushed,' Bianca tells me, although just about everyone south of the region must have spotted the beacon that is Hilbert's face. 'D'you think he likes me?'

'Just a bit.'

'Whoa.' Bianca laughed. 'Don't know if I can handle that!'

'Don't know if I can!' Then we spot Mr. Malinque, the Head, patrolling the school gates. We stop dead in our tracks. Mr. Malinque and Bianca Chiranuy do not see eye to eye. His aim in life is to stamp out all signs of rebellion, disorder and individuality. School uniform offences are punishable by death, or week-long detentions, anyhow. Bianca does not stand a chance.

'We'll sneak in through the staff car park,' I decided, dragging Bianca along the pavement, away from the main gates. Bianca looked glum, because she enjoys arguing about school uniform with Mr. Malinque. Since she started at Kontor High School last August, he had to write two new clauses into the school uniform list. The first outlaws pink miniskirts, the second declares that cat collars and studded wristbands may not be worn on school premises.

'Freak,' spat out an S4 guy as we dodge past him.

'Loser,' Bianca responded automatically. When I look over my shoulder, I saw Hilbert giving the S4 boy a row for picking on Bianca and I had to smile.

We sneaked through the teachers' car park and skirted around the back of the dinner halls. A piquant aroma of boiled cabbage and custard assaults us from the kitchen, even though it's barely ten to nine.

'What's that noise?' Bianca demanded suddenly, frowning.

'Can't hear anything. C'mon Bianca, we can't be late.'

Bianca is standing still, her face anxious, eyes scanning the kitchen yard with it its piles of cardboard, plastic crates and a trio of dustbins huddled near the wall.

'I heard something,' she insisted.

'I didn't.' I huffed. It was so cold the words seemed to gather in the air before me; a small white cloud, like Kyurem's breath. 'Bianca, its freezing. Can we just go now?'

She shakes her head, putting a finger to her lips. Exasperated, I shivered inside my duffel coat.

'What kind of noise?' I asked. In the stillness I can hear the sound of kids shouting in the distance, and someone scraping a pan inside the kitchen. Behind us, Professor Juniper's clapped out VW Beetle wheezes across the car park and shudders to a halt.

'Shhh.'

The school bell clatters out then, and Professor Juniper rushes past us, white and red checked scarf flapping, on her way to the art block.

'Hurry up, girls,' she grinned. 'You'll be late. Later than me even!' She disappeared around the corner, but Bianca still wouldn't budge.

And then I hear it: a thin, mewling cry that's coming from the dustbins. Bianca's there in a flash, tipping up the lids, rooting through the rubbish. Scrunched up kitchen roll and long strips of cellophane down onto the concrete.

'Hilda,' she breathed. 'Look Hilda, just look at what I've found.' Together we peered inside the third bin. They're in among vegetable peelings and the cold baked beans, curled in a squashed up cardboard box, chucked out in the freezing cold January morning like rubbish. Three tiny, shivering, green-eyed Purrloin.

**Okay chapter one is done! **


	2. Chapter Two: Rescue Mission

**Thank you people for reviewing! I was afraid no one would review, so here's chapter 2!**

**Chapter Two: Rescue Mission**

Bianca had a Purrloin in each of her oversized school blazer, and I cradled a wriggling scrap of purple fur inside my woolly hat.

'Oh Hilda, who would do such a thing?' Bianca demanded, outraged. 'They could have been there all night, for all we know. It's barbaric!'

'They could have died,' I whispered, gazing down at the tiny kitten in my hands. 'They still could, Bianca. We have to get them warm and safe and fed. Fast!'

'What should we do?' I chewed my lip. 'They need food now. We need somewhere safe, somewhere warm. We need someone who'll understand.'

'Professor Juniper!' we exclaimed together.

If any teacher in the school will help it has to be Professor Juniper. She's cool and kind and doesn't tell Bianca off for wearing customized clothes or having stripy hair. She lets us listen to music in class and gives us awesome presents at the end of the term.

The art room is where we hang out on rainy days, along with a whole raft of kids who take refuge there, finishing off work or doing extra stuff of their own. Professor Juniper doesn't mind as long as we're working and as long as it's art. She just smiles and nibbles ginger biscuits and sips aromatic coffee that she makes with a plug-in kettle she keeps in the stock cupboard. She's okay, Professor Juniper. You know she's on your side.

The bell that signals the end of registration had just rung, so we leg it round to the front of the school. Bianca and I melted into the crowds and passed unnoticed. Bianca kept her hands in her pockets and I hid my hat under my duffel coat. Outside the second-floor art room, I took a deep breath and rapped on the door and went in.

Amazingly, Professor Juniper has a free lesson. She was alone in the empty classroom, listening to a classical music CD, spreading out screen-prints for a class discussion after break. I spotted Hilbert's design – a skateboarder silhouetted against a rainbow background – so I know the next class is his.

'Girls?' Professor Juniper looked up, confused. 'I don't see your class until Friday afternoon, do I? Is there some kind of problem?'

'Kind of,' Bianca began, scooping the Purrloin out of her pockets and on to the tabletop, where they stand with wobbly legs.

'You have to help us, Professor,' I added, bringing out the fur-filled hat from under my coat. The littlest purple kitten scratches and mews and blinks under the strong electric lights.

'Bianca, Hilda!' Professor Juniper gasped. 'Where on earth did you find them? They're only a few weeks old. They shouldn't be away from their mother!'

'They've been abandoned,' I whispered. 'They were in the trash around the back of the kitchens, just stuffed in with all the rubbish. They're cold and starving, but we have to save them, Professor. Will you help? Please?'

She looks at us, stricken.

'Of course I'll help,' she said. 'The stock cupboard's the warmest place; the pipes for the central heating run right through it. We'll put them in there.'

Professor Juniper emptied a cardboard box full of S1 clay tiles and lined it with her own red and white mohair scarf. We lift the frail feline Pokémon in, one by one, and wedge the box beneath the warm pipes in the stockroom, in between crates of paint and baskets of torn tissue paper. Professor Juniper poured milk into a jam jar , and puts the kettle on to boil while she fished around in a drawer for the ink-droppers we used last term to drip marbling ink on to water as part of our print project. When the kettle was hot, she stirred a little water into the cold milk and filled an ink-dropper.

'I don't know if this is the right thing,' Professor Juniper admitted. 'I don't if they'll take it. But its milk and it's warm. We can try.'

The liveliest kitten, one who always has a tendency to lick itself and be posh and stylish in a catlike way, took the dropper in its mouth. Professor Juniper squeezed the top and a bubble of milk appears. The other two Purrloin started yowling. Bianca and I fill an ink-dropper each.

'We'll need to ring the animal shelter,' Professor Juniper said. 'They'll know what to do, how to look after them. They'll be able to find good homes or a kind trainer once they're old enough.'

I felt bad already; I just wished I was a trainer so I could take care of one of them. I looked down at the scrap of purple fur which I had carried in my hat. Its big green eyes gazed at me, full of trust. My heart plummeted.

'No way,' Bianca said firmly. 'They're not going to any old animal shelter. These Purrloin have a home – with me. Mikelly and Dave will be fine with it, and Hilda can have the tiny one as soon as soon as it's old enough to be separated.

'Oh yes, Professor,' I managed to choke out. 'Please? We can manage, really we can.'

Professor Juniper looked doubtful.

'These Pokémon can't be more than three or four weeks old. They need to be fed every few hours, through the night as well as daytime.'

'We can do it,' I insisted.

'We found them Professor,' Bianca pointed out. 'We saved them. Please don't make us give them away.'

'They're crawling with fleas,' Professor Juniper wrinkled up her nose as the trio began scratching. 'They'll need to see a PokéCenter or a specialized vet.'

'We can sort that,' Bianca promised. 'Please?'

'I must be crazy,' Professor Juniper sighed. 'Okay, give it a go. You can stay with them till the end of break – I'll write you a couple of late passes so you don't get into trouble. If you come in again at lunchtime to feed them, they might just sleep all afternoon…'

Bianca grinned. 'Thanks Professor! You're the coolest! Alongside Professor Ivy of course!' Professor Ivy was a popular teacher who taught geography and Latin. She was almost as popular for her looks as her interesting lessons!

'Keep this quiet, you two,' Professor Juniper warned. 'I don't want half the school trooping in to admire these little wretches.'

'No problem,' Bianca pledged. 'Our lips are sealed.'

Just as the kittens finish feeding and settled down to sleep, there was a sharp rap on the classroom door.

'Professor Juniper?' a stern voice called. 'Are you there?'

'It's Malinque!' Bianca yelped. 'Mr. Malinque, I mean.'

'Stay here,' Professor Juniper hissed. 'And keep quiet.'

She swooped out of the stock cupboard, switched off the light and let the door swing shut behind her. Bianca and I crouched beside the three Purrloin, trying to stay still and silent.

'Ah, Professor Juniper, good good,' Mr. Malinque's voice boomed out. The classical music CD reached an especially loud and rumbly bit then got cut off rudely in midstream.

'We don't need that, do we?' Mr. Malinque barked. 'Now Professor Juniper, we have a new student starting school today, and I'm told that art is his best subject. Isn't that right, N?'

There's a grunt from outside the stockroom door and Bianca pinched my arm, hard. 'It's him!' she hissed. 'The new foster-kid, N!'

'Professor Juniper will be taking you for art, and your first lesson is… Ah, after break, in fact,' Mr. Malinque rambled on. 'Professor Juniper is an excellent teacher – we're very proud of our art department here at Kontor.'

'I think you also teach my daughter, Bianca Chiranuy?' a soft, familiar voice asked. Mikelly.

'That's right,' Professor Juniper said.

'Ah, yes, Bianca,' Mr. Malinque cut in. 'A very bright girl, but there are some uniform issues I'd like to discuss with you, Mrs. Chiranuy. And attitude issues…'

Bianca made an undignified and loud raspberry noise which woke the Purrloin up. They started mewling loudly perhaps hoping for some milk.

'What's that noise?' Mr. Malinque demanded. 'Is it coming from the stock cupboard?'

'That'll be the central heating pipes again,' Professor Juniper said smoothly. 'They've been making some dreadful noises lately.'

'Oh? I'll ask the janitor to look at them for you,' Mr. Malinque told her. 'Well that just about finishes the guided tour. Your class is at biology now, N, and the lesson is nearly over, so perhaps you'd join them after break for art instead? You can stay here if you like, and show those sketchbooks to Professor Juniper.'

'Okay,' a quiet voice said. The art room door creaks open, and we hear Mr. Malinque usher Mikelly out of the room, explaining that stripy socks and matching hair are not really part of the uniform code.

'Phew,' Bianca breathed. 'I thought he'd catch us for sure. We'd have been in serious trouble!'

'And Professor Juniper too, for hiding us,' I pointed out. 'Cut the raspberries next time!'

We peered around at the door. Professor Juniper was writing out a couple of late passes for us, magic slips of paper that will allow us to join our next class, unchallenged. N Harmonia, the new boy, is on the other side of the classroom, looking out of the window. I can only see the back of him: tall and slim and somehow graceful-looking.

'So N,' Professor Juniper called over. 'Art is your favorite subject, is it? What do you like best? We do clay work, textiles, graphics, 3-D, art history and, of course, drawing and painting.'

'I like comic-book art,' the boy said. His voice is surprisingly soft and silky.

'Do you? Excellent!' Professor Juniper declared. 'I'll have a look at those sketchbooks, then.'

We edged up behind her as she leafed through three dog-eared books of cartoon sketches. The drawings are clean, clear, beautifully drawn, some in pencil, some in black ink, and some in felt pen. They were streets ahead of anything I could do.

'Hey N, these are really cool,' Bianca said. 'Seriously.'

The boy turned, and I saw that he had long tea-green hair that fall in messy waves. His face is pale and his eyes were ice-blue. Attractive, yes, very.

'Bianca,' he said, smiling slightly. 'Hi, what are you doing here?'

'Ah, wouldn't you like to know,' Bianca grinned. 'Can we tell him Professor? You think he can keep a secret?'

'Oh I should think so.'

'This is my best friend, Hilda White,' Bianca explained, gesturing towards me. 'She lives just down the road from us. And you'll never guess what we found this morning…'

There's another peal of mewling from the cupboard and I sprinted to check the Purrloin are okay. I decided they're still hungry, and filled another ink-dropper with milk.

'See?' Bianca was saying. N Harmonia looked shell-shocked.

'You- You're keeping them in a cupboard?' he demanded.

Bianca looked annoyed. 'It's warm, and better than the bin we found them in!'

'A BIN?' he exclaimed, kneeling down to stroke the kittens.

'Well, they're okay now,' Professor Juniper explained. N's fingers are long and skinny, with raggedy nails that look like they've been chewed. The kittens wriggled and squirmed beneath his touch, getting playful and naughty.

'I used to have a Purrloin back home,' he said. 'Long time ago.'

He looked up at me through a tangle of tea-green hair. I looked at his milky blue eyes, then back down at the mewling, tiniest Purrloin.

Is it possible to fall in love twice in one morning?

I think maybe it is.


	3. Chapter Three:Lilac, Violet and Amethyst

**Oh my god it's chapter three! I never thought I'd have time to write it. Thank you everyone for reading and a very special thank you to Palkia's Princess for suggesting the names for the three Purrloin! **

**Chapter Three: Lilac, Violet, and Amethyst**

When the last bell went off, Bianca and I sprinted for the art room. Professor Juniper had the cardboard box ready with air holes through all around the top and flaps folded shut.

'Are you sure about this?' she asked us. 'We could still call the Pokémon shelter… '

'There's no need,' Bianca said firmly. 'Hilda and I can do this, I promise.'

Professor Juniper sighed. 'Take the ink-droppers, then. And remember, you need to buy baby Pokémon milk – the powdered, formula stuff – and get them to a Pokémon center for a check-up. Take care of them.'

'We will, Professor,' I grinned. 'And thank you!'

We clattered down the staircase and out into the courtyard, walking briskly towards the main gates where the buses were lined up. We got ambushed just outside the science block.

'Bianca Chiranuy,' Mr. Malinque said smugly. 'I've been hoping to catch up with you. Lipstick – off.' He wafted a tissue in front of her. Bianca took it and made pink kiss-prints all over it.

'Tomorrow, Miss Chiranuy, we'll have socks that match, and no stripes.'

'Are stripes against the rules?' Bianca asked, wide-eyed and innocent. 'I don't remember it saying that in the school uniform leaflet…'

'Well it does,' Mr. Malinque snapped. 'At least it will do soon. Plain socks. White, preferably. And this – this –blazer. It looks like you got it from a jumbo sale.'

'I did, sir,' Bianca chirped brightly. 'And blazers are definitely in the uniform leaflet. Blazer, with badge, it says.'

Malinque growled, fingering the Bullet for My Valentine patch. 'The whole thing is threadbare and far too big for you. It's disgusting.'

'But Mr. Malinque, I bought it specially!'

'Sir, we need to go,' I butted in, tugging gently at Bianca's sleeve. 'Our bus will be leaving.' Mr. Malinque shot me a defeated look.

'Plain, matching socks tomorrow, 'he warned. 'No lipstick. And do something about that blazer. And the hair!'

We broke into a run, and the Purrloin, slithering about in the box, started wailing loudly.

'Hilda White!' Mr. Malinque boomed out behind us. 'What have you got in that box?'

'Did you hear something?' Bianca asked me, grabbing the box and taking the lead.

'Nah,' I puffed. 'Not a thing.'

We jumped onto the bus just as the doors are closing, found the last empty seat and stashed the Purrloin box out of sight on the floor. The school bus was so noisy, nobody could hear their mewling. They've survived a night in the dustbins and a stay in the art-room stock cupboard, and they'll survive the racket of unruly schoolkids and the roar of the engine too. I hope.

By the time we're out on the coast road, the bus was quieter – most of the kids have gotten off. N Harmonia moved up the bus and flopped down in the opposite seat.

'Purrloin okay?' he asked, blue eyes solemn. I fished out the box, peered in through the lid.

'They're fine.'

'Sure they are,' Bianca said with conviction. 'We fed them again at lunchtime, and Professor Juniper gave them some more just before the bell. Just wait till Mikelly and Dave see them!'

'They won't mind?' Paul asked.

'No way. They'll love them.' Bianca assured him. 'You're coming too, aren't you, Hilda? Stay for tea, help the kittens settle in, Dave can drop you back.'

'Sure. Cool.'

I wouldn't miss the Purrloin's first evening at Beachcomber Cottage for anything. The fact that N Harmonia will be there too is just an added bonus.

Bianca took out her trusty hand mirror and began to reapply marshmallow colored lipstick a little shakily, and my brother, Hilbert, zigzagged down the aisle and into the seat in front. He turned around to watch Bianca, enjoying the view.

'Hilbert, I'm going over to Bianca's for tea,' I told him. 'Let Mum and Dad know, okay?'

'I guess,' Hilbert shrugged. 'What's in the box?'

'Nothing!' the three of us chorused a bit too quickly.

'Kind of a noisy nothing,' Hilbert said as a frenzy of squeaking and scratching started up inside the box. 'Is it a group of Patrat or Rattata?'

'No,' Bianca grinned. 'You'll never guess…'

'He won't have to, Bianca,' I sighed heavily. 'You're going to tell him aren't you?'

'We can trust him can't we?' she appealed. 'He's your brother!'

'Exactly.' I rolled my eyes.

'Just tell,' Hilbert grinned. 'What is it? A baby Sandile? A bunch of stolen Poliwag from the science lab?'

Bianca opened the lid a crack to show him.

'Sheesh kebab!' he exclaimed. 'Purrloin! Where d'you get them? What're you gonna do with them?'

Bianca got up as the bus shuddered to a halt. 'We're keeping them,' she said. 'I'm taking them back to Beachcomber Cottage. Come and see. Stay if you like. Right N?'

'Whatever,' N shrugged.

'I might just do that,' Hilbert said, grinning. 'Why not?'

I could think of plenty of reasons why not, but I can't do a thing about it.

We pile off on to the pavement, Hilbert in tow. In the corner shop, we buy milk powder, plus a quarter of lemon-sherbet sweets to bribe Dave and Mikelly.

'Not that they'll need bribing,' Bianca said cheerfully. 'The Chiranuy family specialize in rescuing things. Driftwood from the beach, rubbish from skips, assorted waifs and strays…'

N Harmonia frowned and hid behind his hair.

'She didn't mean it,' I said, falling into a step beside him. 'She's just being funny. She and Brett were waifs and strays once too.'

'I don't need to be rescued,' N said roughly. 'This is only a temporary placement. They always are. I've stayed in three or four different children's homes too.'

I tried to think of a way of how that feels, but I can't get the words out. I think I'm scared of what he'll say. When someone says troubled background, it conjures up an image of shaven heads, cigarettes, biro-pen tattoos that say kill, and miniature crimes. N's troubled background seemed like a different kind.

I'm out of my depth.

'How was school?' I dropped that question into the silence. 'Think you'll settle in?'

N Harmonia shrugged. 'It's okay I guess. Hilbert was friendly. I sat with him in art, and at lunch.'

'He's a pest,' I said. 'Seriously annoying. But then, I'm his sister – I should think that.'

N looked at me through long, sooty lashes, like he's seeing me for the first time. Eyelashes that long are wasted on a boy. You could practically sweep the floor with them.

'You look alike,' N considered. 'Same dark hair, same wide eyes.'

I got a fluttery feeling in my stomach, like the sort of lurching sensation you get when you drive over a humpback bridge and just about lose your breakfast.

'Hey you two,' Bianca called over her shoulder. 'We're thinking up names for the Purrloin. Any ideas?'

'Scrappy, Dusty and Scruff?' N offered. 'Since you found them in the dustbins y'know?'

'Not bad,' Bianca considered. 'I was thinking Hil, Bia and – '

'You want to name one of the Purrloin after my brother?' I wailed. 'Bianca you cannot!'

'I was thinking more of the three starting letters in our names, your name starts with Hil as well,' Bianca protested.

'I know, but…'

'Okay,' Bianca shrugged. 'Not Hil,'

We turn off the coast road and into the lane that leads down to Beachcomber Cottage. The breeze blowing up from the sea is bitingly cold and the hedgerows are still shimmery with frost. I crunched over frozen puddles, my feet slabs of ice.

'Pearl, Petal and Princess?' I suggested.

'How girlie,' Hilbert commented. 'I like N's idea, I mean; they are dustbin kitties, aren't they? You need a name that suggests junk, rubbish and decay.'

'Yeuww.' I grimaced. 'Why exactly?'

'Well, just because,' Hilbert shrugged with perfect boy logic.

'They are pretty yukky,' Bianca admitted. 'Full of fleas and scabs. But I think we should call them something that _intensifies_ the fact that they're _purple_.'

We can see Beachcomber Cottage now, the slate roof dusted with icing-sugar frost, the windows bright, and the chimney trailing plumes of wood smoke. We filed in through the rickety gate, nailed together from driftwood branches beneath the spindly driftwood garden arch where a climbing rose, blackened with cold, hangs on for dear life. The winding concrete path is embedded with shells and pebbles and upturned wine bottles in blue and green.

Bianca marched into the porch, jangling the wind chimes made from shells and seaglass and pieces of bleached out driftwood twigs that look like the bones of small animals.

We headed into the kitchen where Dave is sitting at the scrubbed pine table, helping Brett with some math homework. Mikelly is at the stove, stirring a vast pan of hearty soup. The kitchen was bright and warm and chaotic, like a farmhouse kitchen in a kids' storybook.

'Hi, N, kids,' Dave said. 'How did it go?'

'Okay,' N shrugged. 'No problems.'

'Great,' Mikelly grinned. 'It's a friendly school – you'll soon settle in.'

N looked skeptical, but nobody seemed to notice except me.

Bianca slapped the cardboard box down in the middle of the table. Inside, the Purrloin began to squawk.

'What's in the box?' Dave asked.

Bianca unfolded the lid, and everyone peered in. The kittens blinked fiercely in the bright light of the kitchen, looking lost and startled and hopelessly cute.

'Meet **Lilac, Violet and Amethyst.**' Bianca said.

**And that is the end of chapter three, tell me what you think!**


	4. Chapter Four: N's 'History'

**Here is Chapter Four! I am sorry but I won't be able to update for a while because I've exams in December but I MAY be able to update a few chapters **_**edgewise **_**like this one though, but it's unlikely. Anyways, enjoy! **

**Chapter Four: N's History**

For years, we had been a gang of two, Bianca and me. We hang out together at school, at each other's houses, in the village, at the beach. Now, overnight, we are a gang of four.

Hilbert and Paul are always around. Wherever we go, they go too.

It's good to walk into the lunch hall at school and see that they've saved us a space at their table. It's good to sit in Kontor, sipping milkshakes and pretending we're on some double date when actually we're not. It makes me feel grown-up; it makes me feel cool.

Mostly, we mooch around Beachcomber Cottage, feeding the Purrloin, teasing them with a catnip Rattata on a piece of string or a plastic ball with a bell inside that jingles when it moves.

We took them to the vet and watched them disappear in a fog of white flea powder. They emerged pale and grey and slightly shocked. We learned that the tiniest kitten and the posh kitten are females and the serious, biggest one is a male.

Violet, the tiny Purrloin, had an allergy to fleas, but that would clear up if we keep her bug-free. The vet said they were remarkably well considering their shaky start in life.

'They'll be fine,' he had said. 'Well done, kids.'

The Purrloin grow round and sleek with regular feeds, and their fur grew silky and soft. They lost their fear and learnt to trust us, licking our hands with sandpaper tongues, purring like tiny engines as we stroke their bellies and tickle their ears. They slept in a basket Dave found in a skip, on a blanket made from crotchet squares that Mikelly rescued from a long-gone jumble sale.

I planned ahead for a day when Violet will sleep on the end of my duvet at home; waking me up with an alarm-clock purr, but so far Mum isn't keen on the idea. She was immune to kitten charm. She can only think of flea powder and worming tablets and cat-litter trays, and she is not impressed.

I'm working on it.

Slowly.

At least I know Violet's safe at Bianca's – who wouldn't be? Beachcomber Cottage is pure magic. It reminded me of the witch's house in the fairy story where everything is made out of gingerbread and sweets, except that here everything is made out of driftwood and junk, all transformed into a kind of crazy, weirdo beauty.

The worktops were made of vast slices of wood with the bark still showing along the edge, and the cupboards were cobbled together from what look like old fish boxes and seaworn planks with handles made from old brass spoons and forks beaten and bent into shape. Oban fresh fish, one cupboard read. Portpatrick, said another.

We sat around the kitchen table, perched on weird chairs made from big, curving branches of weathered driftwood, eating warm scones with big curls of oozing butter.

Outside, Hilbert and Brett were playing baseball in the pool of light from the kitchen windows. Hilbert is always Electabuzz and Brett is always Starmie. Somehow, Starmies always win.

'Starmies are champions!' Brett roared, coming in to grab a scone.

'Nah,' Hilbert told him. 'You're just on a lucky streak. Electabuzz are the best: everyone knows that.'

'But we won!' Brett insisted.

'Yeah, you won.'

I had watched my brother stand with the pine bat between the plum trees and leap dramatically for every ball Brett sends his way. I had watched him shake his head and slap his leg and roll his eyes as one shot after another flew past him. Hilbert's okay. Sometimes.

Other times, he's a pain.

'What d'you think, N?' Hilbert asked now. 'Are you Electabuzz or Starmie? Yellow or purple?'

N put his sketchbook down. 'I've told you,' he said. 'I'm not into baseball. Electabuzz, Starmies, it makes no difference.'

'You must like one or the other,' Hilbert persisted.

'Why must I?' N asked evenly.

'Because everyone does,' Hilbert shrugged. 'You lived in Nimbasa, you have to have an option. Baseball runs in the blood there.'

'Not for me.'

'I get it. You're into Whimsicott.'

'No. I'm just not into baseball, Hilbert,' N said slowly, spelling it out.

'Sheesh kebab!' exclaimed Hilbert. 'Sorr-ee!' He doesn't sound sorry at all.

N Harmonia is an alien species as far as Hilbert is concerned, but he's struck a deal and he won't go back on it. He's helping N to settle in because Bianca asked him. And, with Bianca at least, he is making progress. He can make her laugh, he can make her blush and he can even make stand around on the sidelines watching him play baseball in sub-zero temperatures. Grim, especially when N and I end up huddled either side of her, wondering which will come first, death by frostbite or death by boredom.

'Don't encourage him, I warned Bianca. 'He'll think you mean it. We'll never get shot of him.'

'Aw, but it's funny,' Bianca responded. 'He's funny. And – well it's kind of flattering to know that he likes me.'

'He doesn't give up easily.' I told her, and Bianca just smiled.

One day, we went swimming afterschool at the pool in Kontor, Bianca and N and Hilbert and me. N surprised everyone by being an astounding swimmer. He's not into splashing in the shallows like Bianca who screams every time someone threatens to get her hair wet. He doesn't want to chuck a ball around or practice underwater handstands like me. He's not even into waiting for the lifeguard to turn his back so that he could do a running depth-charge jump like Hilbert.

N's long swim shorts had seen better days, and he doesn't bother taking off the sweatbands on his wrists, but he slipped into the water like he belonged there. He swims length after length of smooth, fast crawl, with occasional lazy lengths of backstroke.

'That's some speed you got there,' N said. 'You're good.'

'Think so?'

'Totally. You'll have to tell Dorian, the sports coach. He'll put you in the team, no hassle.'

'Nah,' said N. 'I just swim because I like it, I don't want to be in a team. I don't want to compete.'

'But you should!' Hilbert exclaimed. 'Seriously! Our swim team is crap – they need you. It's a waste to just do it for fun.'

'Nah.'

Later, the lifeguard asked him if he'd be interested in training with the local swimming club, but N just shrugged and smiled and shook his head.

'Sheesh. Such a waste of talent,' said Hilbert as we sat in the café at Kontor later, smelling faintly of chlorine. 'Crazy.'

N just smiled and sipped his blueberry milkshake.

'Have you ever swum for your school?' Hilbert wanted to know. 'Or been in a swimming club? I mean, how did you get to be so good?'

'I just like it,' N said. 'When I was little, we lived on an island. It made sense to know how to swim, so Mum taught me – in the sea.'

'Hey, we swim in the sea too!' I told him. 'The beach behind your cottage is really safe and clean. There are some strong currents further out, but its fine if you stay by the shore.'

'I don't swim in the sea anymore,' N frowned.

'Not at this time of year,' Bianca laughed. 'There are probably whole icebergs out there right now.'

'Not any time of the year,' N said. 'The sea is dangerous. You can't trust it. It's way more powerful than any of us know.'

'Scaredy-cat,' Hilbert grinned. N just shrugged.

'Where was the island?' I asked, stirring my chocolate milkshake with the straw.

'You know, where you lived when you were little?'

N was silent for a while, like he doesn't want to answer. His eyes were kind of faraway.

'It was in Kanto,' he said softly, after a while. 'We lived in a cottage not far from the sea, just me and Mum and our Purrloin. Shirley, she was called, the Purrloin I mean.'

'What happened?' Hilbert asked. 'How come you ended up in care?'

There's another silence and N lets out a long sigh.

'Mum went away,' he told us. 'She'd been depressed and she went away one day, and never came back. I waited, and waited but she never came back. Then a neighbor found me and called the social services and that was that. I've lived in three different foster homes and four different care homes since then.'

I was biting my lip so hard I could taste blood.

'Oh N,' Bianca said. 'That's awful.'

'Sheesh,' said Hilbert. 'Sorry pal.'

'It's okay,' said N. 'It's just the way it is. She was depressed, or she'd never have left me, I know that. She'll come back one day. Anytime now, seriously. So you don't have to feel sorry for me, okay?'

Bianca was looking down at the table top, tracing a pattern in a patch of spilled sugar, Hilbert raked a hand through his pool-damp hair, teasing it into spikes. Nobody can meet N's gaze.

'What happened to Shirley?' I made myself ask. 'What happened to the Purrloin?'

'Don't know,' said N. 'I never saw her again.'

**Well that's chapter four, I'm sorry it sucked so badly, I wrote it in a mad rush during my study breaks. Anyway I'm quite disappointed that I haven't been getting much reviews lately, I'd really appreciate it if those nice people out there who favorited this could review; I really need some helpful tips and criticism to motivate me while I study… and write chapters of course. So…That's it! **


	5. Chapter Five: The Fight

**Oh my god, I haven't updated in soooo long! Sorry guys, so I've got a surprise for everyone to make it up to you: TWO CHAPTERS! And I think irony is against me as always, last time I asked the nice people who favorited the story to review, yes? BUT SUDDENLY, A HANDFUL OF PEOPLE STARTED ALERTING THE STORY! Okay, change of plan, I'd really appreciate it, it if the nice people out there who ALERTED AND FAVORITED this could leave a REVIEW! *Sigh* ENJOY! =)**

**Chapter Five: The Fight**

My mom is not a Pokémon person…or a Purrloin person. Purrloin are bad news, she says. They claw the furniture and climb up the curtains and sneak your food or do unmentionable things in the corner when you're not looking.

'You are not having a Purrloin,' she said firmly. 'I'm sorry the poor thing was abandoned, but you found it and rescued it and it has a good home now, with the Chiranuys. There's no way it's coming here.'

'Mo-om!' I appealed, but resistance was futile. Mom grabbed a fluffy yellow duster and a can of furniture polish and dusts her way around our living room, polishing away all traces of imaginary Purrloin.

'No Hilda,' she said as she worked. 'Really. No.'

Dad, hiding behind a newspaper which has a huge headline _Team_ _Rocket Attacks Silph Co_, raised one eyebrow and shrugged, and I know I'm on my own here. Would it kill to help me once in a while? I gave Dad a death glare as he pretended to be absorbed in the newspaper, making his brown eyes wide. Wasn't that newspaper from six years ago anyway?

Please.

I won't give up, though. I love Violet and Violet loves me, and one day we'll be together. I just know it.

Hilbert, of course, thinks differently.

He was out of bed at nine thirty on a Saturday morning, crunching along beside me through a light fall of snow towards Bianca's house. Normally, earthquakes, volcanoes and full-on asteroid showers cannot part him from his quilt on a non-school day.

'You'll never get to keep that scabby cat,' he said sweetly. 'No chance.'

'Well, cheers, Hilbert,'

I used to think Hilbert was the coolest big brother in the world. He could do awesome stuff on his skateboard, he knew loads about Pokémon, score dozens in a baseball game. All that, and he was nice to me too. He'd ruffle my hair, share his bubblegum, help me with my maths homework, sneak into my bedroom at midnight to tell ghost stories, eat jam and sardine sandwiches and invent crazy games with my fluffy beanbag Wigglytuff plushy .

All that stopped when Hilbert turned twelve.

Overnight, he decided that cool meant snotty. If I tried to say something funny, his smile was sneery and sarcastic. The last time he helped me with my homework, I got every single sum wrong, and just last week I walked into my bedroom to find my ancient stuffed Wigglytuff hanging from the window latch, its head in a noose, hung to its death.

Teenage brothers are no joke.

'You could stick up for me about Violet,' I suggested.

'I could,' Hilbert agreed, in the same tone as if he were announcing that Bagon could fly. 'What d'you think of this N kid, anyway?'

'He's cool.'

'Weird though,' Hilbert said. 'I can't work him out. The guys at school don't like him much.'

'Why?' I asked anxiously. 'What's he done?'

Hilbert dragged his glove along the top of a wall, collecting a handful of snow. He cradled it in his palms, making a snowball.

'He hasn't done anything,' Hilbert said. 'That's the problem. He won't play soccer or baseball, he won't come to the skatepark with me and Austin and Tom and Harris…'

'He can draw, though,' I pointed out. 'He's brilliant at it. And he's the best swimmer I've ever seen!'

'That's another thing!' Hilbert huffed. 'Austin's on the swim team – he tried to talk N into joining, but he's just not bothered. That's pretty selfish, when you think about it. You'd think he'd try, y'know? You'd think he'd want to fit in.'

Hilbert hung back, supposedly to tie a shoelace that's come undone. When I turned to see how he's doing, it's too late. The snowball hits me hard in the face, hard enough to make my eyes water.

Then, I shouted that there are more snowballs coming, and I turned and ran all the way down the lane to Beachcomber Cottage. There was snow in my hair, making my scalp tingle, dripping icily down my neck.

As I skidded in through the gate, I see that the entire Chiranuy family is outside. Dave was shoveling snow off the driveway while Bianca, N, Brett and Mikelly were building a snowman. Already it was a Chiranuy-type creation, with fir cones for buttons and twigs for arms.

I floundered over to them, calling for a united attack on Hilbert.

'Snow war!' yelled Bianca, letting the first missile fly. It caught Hilbert on the kneecap, and he laughed, ducking behind a bush. We pelted him until he's caked in snow, hair dripping, clothes soaked.

'Snow massacre, more like,' Mikelly said. 'I'll go put the kettle on for hot chocolate.'

'Do you surrender?' I shouted, and Hilbert called back that he'll never give in, not while there's breath left in his body. He retreated to make more snowballs, and Brett, the traitor, ran off to help. N and Bianca and I swooped about, scraping up more snow, piling up missiles.

'Now!' Bianca, our commander, squealed. 'Go for the kill!'

Bianca's first snowball hit Hilbert in the stomach but he ran forward and grabbed her by the waist, whirling her around and around. N pelted Hilbert with a quick volley of snowballs, while I snuck up behind him and managed to shove a snowball right down the back of his hoodie. Hilbert roared, dropping Bianca on to the ground and shoved me down.

I fell hard, winced, and lay still for a moment, catching my breath. When I hauled myself up, face stinging with cold, Bianca was getting to her feet too, brushing the snow from her clothes and hair, trying to hold Brett at arm's length.

A few feet away, N lay pinned to the ground while Hilbert sat astride him, crumbling snow on his face.

'C'mon Harmonia, you Shuppet,' Hilbert panted. 'Fight back! You're meant to struggle!'

'It's okay. You win.' N said breathlessly. His hat had come off and his long minty hair is matted with snow, but his cheeks are glowing. His long eyelashes are crusted with snow.

Hilbert lowered his last snowball and stood up, brushing down his jeans.

'Shuppet,' he said, shaking his head, making disintegrated snow fly everywhere. 'Come on, let's go in.'

Mikelly had made hot chocolate for everyone. She and Dave went through to the workshop and Brett followed, leaving us alone in the steamy kitchen, our wet shoes and coats lined by the stove.

Bianca's favorite Bullet For My Valentine tracks roar from a CD player perched on top of a huge, scarlet fridge. Dave said the fridge is fifty years old and he found it in a skip, and I believe him.

Once, Dave was driving me and Bianca into town for an emergency shopping trip, when we passed a skip by the side of the road, overflowing with cruddy bits of furniture. Dave stopped and made us get out and help drag big, ugly cupboards and bookshelves into the back of the van. A month later, Dave had stripped the dark wood back to pale oak, made new handles from twisty driftwood sticks and stuck rows of larch cones along the edges of the bookcases. It all looked mysterious and elegant, like something an elf might own, and he sold the lot at a craft fair in Nimbasa for hundreds of Poké.

He and Mikelly make a living from the sea. They pick up driftwood, shells, seaglass, and rope and turn it into something beautiful. Maybe a chair, a bench, a stool, or maybe a mirror or a treasure chest. Weird, like Hilbert says, but wonderful too.

I fed the kittens. They could lap milk from a saucer now, and wolf down little servings of mashed up tinned meat. Violet climbs up my body like she's sealing Everest, then curls softly around my neck like a fur collar. I could hear her low, rasping purr as she drifted into sleep, and feel her stomach stretched tight as a drum, softer than silk.

Bianca and Hilbert were playing chess. She's winning, but sneakily, trying to look baffled whenever Hilbert makes a good move, pretending to think hard when really she has the whole game boxed off. When you first play chess with Bianca, you think you're winning. Then you think it's an even match, and finally as she mashes you to pulp, you realize you never had a hope. Hilbert hasn't got to that stage yet. He's taking it seriously, showing off.

N is curled up in the window seat, sketching. Behind him, falling snow patterned the windowpane like lace. He kept glancing over to the chess game, then back down to his sketchbook, totally absorbed.

'What are you drawing, Shuppet?' Hilbert asked.

'Professor Juniper thinks if I do lots of sketches of real people, my cartoon figures will get better, stronger,' N explained. 'So I am.'

'Aren't you a bit old for cartoons?' Hilbert asked, which is rich coming from someone who still buys _Pichu Brothers_ every week. I'd understand if it was something like _Pokémon Adventures_ or _Magical Pokémon Journey_ but seriously, _Pichu Brothers_?

'Comic-book art is cool,' N argued. 'It's what I want to do, what I care about.'

'Okay,' Hilbert shrugged. 'Just asking. I mean you're not into the usual S3 stuff are you? Baseball, skateboarding, music,_ girls_.' He put an extra emphasis on 'girls', which annoyed me.

'Leave him,' Bianca said, sweeping Hilbert's queen off the chessboard. 'We're all different aren't we?'

'Some of us are more different than others,' Hilbert said darkly.(I just hated writing that!) 'So, Muppet, gonna show us your sketches?'

N threw the sketchbook down on the kitchen table. There's a sketch of Dave in his workshop, chopping driftwood carefully, and Mikelly slumped in a driftwood chair, lips pursed and one hand on her right cheek, obviously thinking hard about something. There's one of Brett playing with his distorted cars, me feeding Violet with an ink-dropper, and Bianca, hair looking silky even in the picture, her random highlights were shaded lightly in the exact places, she was wearing her oversized pink blazer and tight and super-short skirt.

'Not bad,' Hilbert admitted. 'What about today's one, though? You were drawing us play chess, weren't you?'

'At the back,' N said silently.

At the back of the sketchbook we found today's drawing of Hilbert looking down at the chessboard with wide, innocent dark eyes, his straight hair still messed slightly from the snow war. It's better than the other drawings – softer, warmer, stronger. It made Hilbert look almost beautiful.

'Wow,' I breathed.

'Don't like it,' Hilbert said harshly. 'You've made me look so girly.'

'I don't think so,' N said.

Over the page there's a quick sketch of Hilbert in his soccer boots and games kit, cluelessly and almost sweetly holding a soccer ball. Another, of Hilbert looking _hot_, I'm sad to say, his hair was gelled into perfect spikes and he was smiling his best lopsided smile. Strangely, N had captured it perfectly. A fourth, of Hilbert smiling his usual smile, his whole face lit up from inside. Flawless. Absolutely faultless sketches.

'Whoa,' said Bianca.

Hilbert slammed the book shut and chucked it across the table. It bounced off the chessboard, dislodging some pieces, then fell to the ground.

'What are you, some kind of stalker?' Hilbert demanded. His voice is cold and hard, but it's trembling a little, so I know he's really angry.

'They're just sketches,' N protested. 'I like drawing.'

'Yeah sure. Sketches of me. Well you can stop it right now, Shuppet-boy. I've had enough.'

'I didn't mean – '

'You didn't mean what?' Hilbert flashed. 'Stay away from me. I mean it. No more drawings. Okay?'

'…Okay.'

N picked up his sketchbook from the floor, yanked open the stove's fuel door and chucked the book inside. It was gone instantly, in a quick burst of flames, before anyone can protest. He sat down at the kitchen table, looking shell-shocked and if anyone looked close enough they could tell he was oddly near tears.

'Good riddance,' Hilbert said ruthlessly. 'I'm bored with this place – I'm going to Kontor. Might take the bus to Castelia. Anyone coming?'

There was a silence. Bianca picked up the fallen chess pieces, trying to rearrange the board.

'I'll come if you like,' N offered awkwardly.

'I'm not asking you, Shuppet,' Hilbert snapped. He dragged on his boots, his coat and gloves.

'I will, then,' Bianca said casually. She pulled on an extra pair of stripy socks, slipped on her pink zippered biker boots and grabbed her coat and hat.

'Bianca you can't,' I objected, although she can, of course. I am not her mother, I am not her sister. I can't tell her what to do. She wouldn't listen anyway.

'What about the snow?' I asked. 'It's really heavy now. You can't just go off in a blizzard. What will I say to Mikelly and Dave?'

Bianca laughed. 'Tell them I'm learning to live a little,' she said, and then she's out of the door, Hilbert's arm around her waist as they trudged down the garden path.

**Whew! That was the longest chapter so far! I enjoyed writing this one because… Well I'll enjoy the next chapter more! Haha stay tuned! =) Now I've to write the next one… *Sigh* Always making impossible promises…**


	6. Chapter Six: Learning To Live A Little

**Okay, this is part two of my impossible promise. Anyways, to make things more interesting, I'm gonna make a little challenge, I'm going to include two songs in this chapter, and I'll hand out N and Hilda cookies to those who can guess the names of the songs WITHOUT googling! So… ENJOY AND REVIEW!**

**Chapter Six: Learning To Live A Little**

Mikelly and Dave are not happy.

'She can't have gone to Castelia, not like this,' Mikelly said, frowning. She rubbed her hand across the windowpane as though it might help her to see through the swirl of snow. 'She wouldn't. She wouldn't just go, without saying something.'

I thought of Bianca's parting shot, about learning to live a little, and pressed my rose-colored lips firmly together.

'They might turn back,' N said hopefully.

'I don't understand why they've gone in the first place,' Dave said. 'Hilbert came over to see you, N. Why would he just take off with Bianca?'

'We had a fight.'

'A fight?' Mikelly looked at me as though I am somehow responsible for keeping Hilbert in line. As if that was ever an option.

'A disagreement,' N corrected himself. 'Nothing serious. Hilbert decided to leave, and Bianca went too.'

'So did you and Bianca have a fight too?' Dave asked me.

'No.' I said, unable to make myself sound less gloomy.

'But she's gone off and left you, without explaining why?'

I glanced at the abandoned chess game, a few pieces still scattered across the table.

'I think Bianca likes Hilbert,' I said quietly. It's like the whole idea just occurred to me, but the minute I say it out loud I know it's the truth. Hilbert likes Bianca, that's old news.

But Bianca likes Hilbert?

'Well, he's a nice enough kid…' Dave said.

'I mean, I think she likes him,' I explained. Geez, how much more awkward could this get? 'You know? And he likes her.'

There was a looong and awkward silence.

'She's too young,' Mikelly decided, frowning.

'This is crazy,' Dave said. 'Castelia is twenty-five miles away. On a day like this!'

'What if the buses stop running?' Mikelly panicked.

'The snow's not that bad,' I whispered. 'Is it?'

'Would they be at your place Hilda?' Mikelly appealed. 'I could ring your mom.'

'Worth a try.'

But Bianca and Hilbert are not at my place, and Mikelly's phone call just got Mom and Dad all worried. Dad said he'll take a walk around the village to see if he can find them, and Mikelly promised that I'll be safe home as soon as Dave has the van on the road.

She drifted back to the window, pressing her face against the snow-embroidered glass. She was not the type of person who worries about school uniform or lipstick, kitten heels or stripy hair, but she is worried now. Her face is pale and her brow is crumbled.

'It'll be okay,' I said, but she doesn't seem to hear me.

'It's my fault,' N mumbled. 'My fault they're gone.'

I guess maybe it was N's fault – the thing with the sketchbook was pretty freaky. Why so many pictures of Hilbert? If they were of me, I'd be embarrassed, but happy too. Hilbert is embarrassed and seriously pissed off. I knew he was finding N hard work, and I had a feeling this may just kill the friendship dead.

'I think you made Hilbert feel uncomfortable,' I said carefully. 'All those pictures of him.'

'It's just that he's in my class, you know?' N shrugged. 'He's always around. It was just easy to draw him.'

Maybe, maybe not. I looked at N's sad eyes and I wanted to say something to make him feel better.

'Hilbert overreacted,' I told him as I put on my coat and boots. 'They were just pictures, weren't they? And Bianca shouldn't have gone at all. Don't worry – they're probably in Castelia City, holed up somewhere warm and dry, eating pizza.'

'I've wrecked everything,' N said gloomily. 'Hilbert won't want to know me now.'

'He will,' I reassured him, but I'm not so sure.

'No way. And now they're missing, and it's all my fault.'

'Don't worry.' I said, squeezing his arm with my mittened hand. 'They'll be fine. It'll all work out.'

Dave called from the doorway that he's got the van running, so I grabbed my hat and scarf and headed out into the storm.

Hilbert snuck in the back door, sometime after seven. He was halfway up the stairs when Dad collared him.

'Where have you been? Dad wanted to know. 'That poor girl's family was worried sick. What are you playing at?'

'We weren't _playing_,' Kit argued. Note: emphasis on 'playing'.

I groaned inwardly and face-palmed, count on Hilbert to say something like that!

'Where were you?' Dad ignored his last comment, if only he could see the funny side of it!

'We went to Castelia,' Hilbert snapped. 'I told Hilda. What's the big deal?'

'It was snowing,' Mom said. 'We were worried.'

'You don't usually worry,' Hilbert pointed out. 'Some days, I'm out in Kontor with Austin, Harris and Tom till past ten at night. You've never said anything before.'

'Bianca's parents – '

'– act like she's still four years old,' Hilbert cut in sharply. 'That's not my problem.'

'I think it might be,' Dad said. 'You're older than her, you should be more responsible. Let people know where you are, what you're doing. '

Hilbert shrugged. 'Right now, I'm going upstairs to my room,' he said sarcastically. 'Is that okay with everyone?' he added derisively.

'Not really, no,' Dad huffed.

'Tough.' Hilbert turned his back and climbed up the stairs and we heard his door slam shut.

Dad goes kind of pink and his lips set into a hard, tight line. He stomped into the living room, resisting the temptation to slam the door himself.

'At least he's found a nice girl,' Mom said brightly. 'A bit offbeat, Bianca, but very polite. He's growing up, our Hilbert.'

'He'll never see fifteen the way he's going.' Dad muttered darkly 'Just whose side of the family does he get it from?' Me and Mom exchange amused glances. Oh-kay…

Hilbert is grounded for a month. He is not allowed to hang out with his friends, he is not allowed to see Bianca and most importantly he is not allowed to set foot in Beachcomber Cottage.

Later that night, I stood outside Hilbert's door. I was surprised – and disgusted – to hear his voice singing. Completely unaware that he was grounded. A pity I had to break the news to him. I stood outside the door, stifling a giggle.

'All the colors in the sky remind me of your pretty eye, so beeee with me, my girlllll,' he warbled on and on. 'Oh be my rainbow girl, put the colors in my world then baby you can see that we were meant to beeee!' Then after the loud horrible note, a series of loud tapping noises followed.

Oh. My. God.

Was. He. DANCING?

I couldn't take it anymore; I rushed into the nearest room and flung myself down on the laundry chair, desperately covering my mouth with my hands as chokes of strangled laughter escaped.

Oh no, did he hear?

I cautiously peeked out of the laundry room, no; luckily faint singing and tapping noises still drifted from the closed room. He sure was happy, I wonder what really happened today at Castelia. So, I walked up to the door and knocked. 

_Rap! Rap! Rap!_

Hilbert opened, looking mildly annoyed that I interrupted his song/dance session.

'This is so unfair!' Hilbert grumbled later, when I told him about how he was grounded. I had smuggled him up cold pizza and chips left over from teatime, but there has to be a trade-off. I want information, hard facts,

'Shouldn't have annoyed Dad, should you?' I told him. 'Boy is he mad. You're lucky it's only a month.'

'They're making too much of it,' Hilbert protested. 'I went into Castelia with Bianca. How come the world has such a problem with that?'

'Is she your girlfriend now?' I pressed.

Hilbert shrugged, 'Maybe. You'd better ask her.'

'D'you want her to be?'

'You know I do, Hilda. That's not a crime, is it?' Hilbert said. 'I like Bianca. A lot. It's N Harmonia I have a problem with.'

'He didn't mean any harm.'

'The kid's a nightmare, Hilda,' Hilbert huffed. 'I've tried to help him fit in, be his friend. What does he do? Gets all weird and creepy on me like some kind of headcase stalker.'

'He was only drawing!'

'Yeah. Well, if he comes near me with a pencil again, I'll break his fingers. You can tell him that from me, okay? It's his fault, this whole mess.'

I flopped down at the end of Hilbert's bed and watched him wolf down dried-up old pizza. He doesn't tell me to get lost like he normally would. His open wardrobe revealed a rail of neatly ironed hoodies, black t-shirts and jeans. On his desk, next to his video gaming system, sat body spray, hair gel and a brand of shower gel that claimed to make skinny brown-haired boys irresistible to women.

'N is part of Bianca's family right now,' I reminded Hilbert. 'You can't just drop him.'

'Watch me.'

'Bianca won't like that,' I warned, but Hilbert just shrugged. He is smiling slightly to himself, like he knows Bianca way better than I do. He reached over to his coat pocket, took out a fat, white package and handed it to me.

'Got you this,' he said carelessly. 'In town.'

I unwrapped a squashed, greasy doughnut with pink sugar sprinkles. When we go to Castelia as a family, we always buy doughnuts from the bakery in Slim Street. This is my favorite kind.

'Not as good cold,' he said regretfully.

'Still yummy, though. Thanks Hilbert.'

'No problem. Thanks for the pizza.'

I grinned, biting into my doughnut. Maybe Bianca will be a good influence on my brother. Maybe he will go back to being kind and thoughtful, the way he was before teenage years got in the way.

'Do you think Bianca will be in trouble for today?' he asked me. 'Were Dave and Mikelly mad?'

I pulled a scary face. 'Hilbert,' I told him. 'Seriously, you don't want to know.'

Much later, when I was almost asleep, my Xtransciever went off somewhere on the other side of my room. Bianca downloaded a _song_ of her choice as the ringtone. It's not the kind of thing you'd want to hear at eleven forty-five on a Saturday night.

Your tears don't fall  
>They crash around me<br>Her conscience calls the guilty to come home  
>Your tears don't fall<br>They crash around me  
>Her conscience calls the guilty to come home<p>

I groaned sleepily and swung myself up from the bed and groped around for my Wigglytuff slippers.

The moments died, I hear no screaming  
>The visions left inside me are slowly fading<br>Would she hear me if I calls her name?  
>Would she hold me if she knew my shame?<p>

Joey doesn't have an Xtransciever because Dave and Mikelly think the radio waves scramble your brain or something.

This battered room I've seen before  
>The broken bones they heal no more, no more<br>With my last breath I'm choking  
>Will this ever end I'm hoping<br>My world is over one more time

I jumped back into bed and pressed the answer button, Bianca's face filled the screen automatically.

'Hi! Are you okay? What happened?'

'Oh Hilda, I had a fantastic time. We got the bus to Castelia – it took forever, because of the snow. Hilbert knew all these really cool places. I bought a t-shirt down at Cartailors and a pair of blood red fishnets for school – '

'Bianca,' I interrupted her. 'What did Mikelly and Dave say? Aren't you in trouble?'

'Oh well, sort of,' she admitted. 'They're not happy, but what can they do?'

'Ground you for months like Dad did to Hilbert?' I suggested.

'No way!' Bianca howled. 'Poor Hilbert! That's terrible. I thought Dave and Mikelly were bad. I had two solid hours of lectures and warnings but I said sorry and I promised I'd never go off again without telling them where I was going.'

'How come you always get away with murder?' I asked.

'Must be my natural charm,' Bianca said, giggling.

'How's N?'

'He's okay. Hilbert's pretty pissed with him, though. Thinks he's some kind of stalker.'

'Hilbert overreacted,' I said firmly. 'N just likes to draw.'

'Whatever,' Bianca said. 'Hilbert just got spooked out, that's all. It was a bit weird, you have to admit.'

I'm not about to admit anything, so I chewed my lip and asked the question that's been bugging me all day.

'Are you going out with my brother?'

There's a long pause, then I hear Bianca sigh.

'Will you be mad at me if I say yes?'

'Will it make any difference?' I countered.

'Not really. I like him Hilda. He's really cute and funny and cool.'

'Yeuww. I don't want to hear this.'

'Okay. No problem.

There's another long pause, and then Bianca broke the silence.

'Thing is Hilda, could you let me speak to him?' she asked. 'I just wanted to thank him for today. Let him know I'm okay. I had to wait till it was late – I didn't want Dave or Mikelly listening in. I thought your mobile would be more private and stuff. So if it's okay…'

I tiptoed across the landing and snuck into Hilbert's room. He jolted awake when I switch the light on like a startled Cyndaquil.

'It's for you,' I whispered, holding out the mobile, and his face lit up like a kid on Christmas morning. I closed the door behind me, crept back across the landing and into bed. I am pleased, really, for Hilbert and Bianca, but it's been a long day, a weird, exhausting, confusing, crazy day.

I pulled the covers up my head and pressed my face into the pillow and I wondered why my throat was aching with tears.

I'm too proud to cry.

**Second longest chapter ever! Remember everyone reviews! I spent ages writing these two! And remember, SONGS! COOKIES!**


	7. Chapter 7 : Back To Normal?

**Oh my god, it's been ****ages ****everyone! Sorry for not updating. I was experiencing the joy of school holidays and now I'm back to the boredom of school. Exam marks? Oh um, hehe well I got 70's for most of them, I got a 94 for Geography which technically means an A*! As for Math… Somewhere between 30 and 40 :( Hehe, enjoy and review!**

**Chapter Seven – Back To Normal?**

I guess I'm just not ready to lose Bianca to some brown-haired, skinny boy. It doesn't help that it's my brother – it's not like Bianca and I can talk into the small hours about how cute he is. Please.

'It's amazing,' she said for the forty-second time this week, as we leaned up against the cast-iron radiators waiting for Hilbert's class to come out of French. 'I mean, all those years and I just never really saw him before, right?'

'Whatever,' I shrugged.

'He's a great kisser. Really strong lips.'

'Bianca! Too much information! Seriously.'

At that moment, Mr. Malinque stalked past and cast an outraged glance at Bianca's Charizard Meets Meganium tartan mini kilt, draped with chains. It was barely visible beneath the hem of her pink blazer, which may account for Mr. Malinque's scrunched-up purple face. Any minute, there will be smoke coming out of his ears.

'Miss Chiranuy.' He choked out. 'What…is…_this_?'

He flicked a gnarled and quivering hand towards the tartan skirt, and Bianca sprang to life and did a little twirl for him.

'Sir, I know it's not uniform,' she said sweetly. 'I know that, and I'm sorry. But we are a school, and I'm a schoolgirl. We're studying school history and learning Robert Burn's poems in English, and you're always telling us to be proud of our school and lessons, aren't you? So I thought that, under the circumstances – '

'You thought wrong!' Mr. Malinque roared. 'That skirt must go!'

'Right now, sir?' Bianca blinked innocently.

Mr. Malinque backed away, suddenly pale.

'Not now, you insolent girl,' he said shakily. 'You know what I mean. No more kilts, Miss Chiranuy. And you're in detention – for a week!'

As Mr. Malinque disappeared around the corner, a small roar of applause broke out behind us. Hilbert and his friends had been watching from the classroom door. Austin, Tom and Harris melted away, leaving Hilbert to wander up to Bianca. He brought a packet of candy from out of his blazer pocket and handed them to her. Candied Pecha Berry Hearts.

I turned away, suddenly in need of fresh air.

Outside, the school field is a huge mix of soccer games. Small knots of girls huddled on the edges, gossiping, catching up on homework or reading magazines. Beyond them I spotted N Harmonia, sitting alone on a low piece of wall behind the music block. N had been alone all week – in class, in the lunch hall, in the field. He probably felt worse than I did.

I walked over to him, watched him close a small black sketchbook and slide it into his pocket as soon as he sees me approach. He slipped a pencil behind his ear and grinned at me from behind his tea-green hair.

'Hey. Hilda. Where's Bianca?'

'She's with Hilbert,' I told him, sitting down next to him. 'What a surprise. I kind of got the feeling that three's a crowd.'

'Ouch,' N said. 'That's two of us out in the cold then.'

'Is Hilbert still pissed about the drawings?' I asked.

'Ever so slightly. I just thought – at the start – I thought things would work out okay. Should've known.'

'Hilbert's a pain,' I told him. 'Don't stress, you'll make other friends.'

'I'm not so good at that stuff,' N admitted. 'I've always been more of a loner,'

'You don't have to be,' I reassured him, getting up from the wall.

'Don't worry, I'm fine.'

'Okay, see you in the art room at lunchtime?' I asked hopefully.

'Yeah, maybe.' N shrugged. With that, I walked off towards where my next lesson would be.

I cannot stand another five minutes of Hilbert and Bianca feed each other spoons of caramel sauce and bits of sandwich.

'Want to go to the art room?' I asked Bianca, but she just mouthed the word 'later' and turns her back so she can describe the plot of last night's Pokémon Parody episode, practically word for word.

Nightmare. My smart, sassy and sweet best friend is turning into a fluff-brained, lovesick gimp. Of course, she was always a hopeless romantic, but still. When Hilbert is around, nobody else exists around her. It could be possible I'm turning invisible.

'I'm gonna go up,' I told her.

'Mmm.'

'There's a rumor going around that Bullet For My Valentine will be there,' I said, testing to see whether she was even listening. 'Professor Juniper invited them to give a one-off workshop on non-permanent tattoos.'

'Fantastic,' Bianca sighed vaguely.

That proved it.

I am officially invisible.

The art room was packed with the usual crowd of kids. The ones who are into art sit painting or doing strange, experimental stuff with wire and pliers and glue. The ones who are avoiding the windswept playground lounge on desktops, chatting and adding the occasional scribble to a piece of class work. The ones who are here because they have nowhere else to go, nobody else to be with, try hardest to look busy.

Normally, I'm in the second category, looking for a warm place to hang out in when the weather got arctic. Today, though, I know I'm in with the loners. I fished my art folder out from the drawers and took out an unfinished still-life painting.

'Hey, Hilda.'

N waved from the sink area, and then wandered over to where I'm sitting. He set a paint palette and a water jar down on the table, and took a huge comic-style happy families picture from his folder. Two smiling faces, a young woman and a little boy, arranged like a holiday snapshot.

'It's good,' I told him. 'Is that your mum?'

'It's how I remember her, anyway.' N said with a shrug. 'I don't have any photos. Sometimes it's hard to remember,'

'Tough.'

N fished out a glass bottle of something orange and fizzy from his rucksack, pushing it across the table at me. It's one of those old-fashioned bottles of drinks which you can buy at the corner shop opposite the school. Aprijuice. It's sweet and cool and fizzy, with a flavor of long-ago summers. It originates from Johto I think.

'You okay?' N pressed. 'You look like you're in a bad mood.'

'I'm invisible,' I told him, holding up a hand to check whether it's transparent or not. 'It's happening slowly but it's happening. Pretty soon, you won't see me at all.'

'What are you talking about?'

'Seriously,' I told him. 'People can't see me. People can't hear me. I could disappear any minute.'

N Harmonia laughed. 'Have you been hanging around with Romeo and Juliet again?' he asked me. 'Don't take it personally. They wouldn't notice if there was an Ursaring right next to them.'

'It feels like I'm losing my best friend.' I told him. 'It hurts.'

'Yeah, I know.' He said sadly, and I remembered that he does.

'Hey we'll survive,' I grinned. 'Won't we?'

'Are you sure I'm not looking hazy to you?' I checked. 'Kind of wishy-washy?'

'Not even slightly.'

We painted in silence for a while and then Professor Juniper glided up behind us.

'No Bianca today?' she asked.

'Bianca's got a boyfriend.' I explained, trying the words out for size.

'Sweet!' Professor Juniper smiled.

'Er, no, not exactly!'

'Oh, well. I don't suppose it'll last forever.' She shrugged. 'How are those Purrloin getting along?'

'They're fine. They're eating solid food now, and they're huge – compared to when we found them, anyway. They're really clever too.'

'Almost house-trained.' N chipped in. 'Except for when Amethyst mistook Mikelly's handbag for the litter tray.'

'Scary,' said Professor Juniper.

'Very.'

Later on, in Math, I was pounding through a shed load of fractions. Bianca, who loves Math (I told you she was weird), had finished and sat doodling hearts and skulls all over the back of her notebook in her favorite silver pen.

'Hey,' she whispered when Professor Rowan turned his back to scrawl more sums on the black board. 'Was it just a rumor, then, about Bullet For My Valentine?'

I blinked at her. 'They were there, all right.' I said. 'They're much better-looking in real life. You missed out.'

'Show me your tattoo, then!'

'I can't,' I said, my mouth twitching into a smile. 'It's in a very private place.'

'You wouldn't be just saying that?' Bianca asked, her eyes laughing. 'To get your own back?'

'Would I lie about something that important?'

'Possibly, Hilda, possibly. But if they were to turn up….'

'Mmm?'

'Would you get an autograph for me?'

I raised an eyebrow. 'Whatever would Hilbert say?'

Bianca rolled her eyes. 'Kit?' she asked. 'Kit who?'

**How was it? Please tell me! Read and review! **

**-Skylaa :)**


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